Author: KCF
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Grab the exquisite pain!
Sometimes beauty hurts. Maybe it even hurts most of the time. Knowing exquisite beauty is a painful experience. It is a premonition of death. It is a foretelling of our end and of all that we will leave behind. This morning I watched and listened to a few songs of a concert DVD that I…
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The beautiful illusion
Today I gave away something that was very valuable to me. I gave away an illusion. It was an idea sprung from a long conversation with a friend Nick about community. It was one of those conversations that leave you both exhausted and frenetic at the end. Both of us are members of a men’s…
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Luscious
I stand on the cusp of the dawn. One day stands between me and the night. One day followed by a long night. I step into my one day, thrilled, embattled, twisting, ecstatic. As I am falling into it, tumbling awkwardly, arms flailing, I grab at things. I hold them for a while, but then…
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Swallow
Swallow. From the cliffs where the birds make their nests to the intimate scene in a hotel room full of colored lights, the word “swallow” makes its poetic appearance. From awkward dinner table scenes (“swallow your food”) to the heightened moment when one is waiting to find out who will: swallow. Words are artifice. Stare…
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The Learning Curve
I hit an oil slick on a sharp downhill curve and my bike and I went careening across the road. My partner, who went down right behind me on the same slick on the same curve, fared worse: his helmet grew a deep crack and he lost his short-term memory for a while in the…
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Naked soul playing with fire
“… with the amps blasting and Jason sweating as if he were being barbecued under the stage lights, he called for more air conditioning but no air conditioning would save him under those conditions – never mind that he seems to inhabit his own personal inferno.”
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On the Pampa
This photo was taken on Julio Mendes’s ranch in Cordoba, Argentina while shooting photos for a horse breeding magazine.
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Rising from our ashes
The day begins with a sigh, so much to lose, so much to gain. I disagree with those who say that we are born innocent and pure. Rather, we are born plump and unformed — beautiful in our rawness perhaps, but just a bare hint of who we may be. We are born of colliding…
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The training
It is early morning. The hills are buried in a vast down comforter of muffling, white fog. Even as I watch, in no hurry to see the morning become day, I see the fog lifting against the hills, like a thermometer slowing rising. Once the ridge line is clear (and it is safe on those…